


Quiet Like the Snow

by knightlychika



Series: Louder Than Thunder [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Guilt, Healing pods, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Your team loves you Lance, lots of hugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 20:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightlychika/pseuds/knightlychika
Summary: Lance gets back to the Castle of Lions after a mission leaves Keith fighting for his life, but there are more wounds that need healing than just the physical





	Quiet Like the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this, the 2-month-late second part to Louder than Thunder. My apologies for the delay, Denver Comic Con and my sister's wedding have left me scrambling last-minute ;;  
> Thank you guys so much for the feedback on Louder than Thunder! It was your encouragement that gave me the motivation to finish and post this continuation - even if it took way longer than expected to get it done
> 
> This second part is dedicated to my roommate, Triscribe. Her blessed soul has waited the longest for this

“Allura?” Lance’s voice wavered as he attempted to comm the Castle of Lions. His hands also shook horribly - all of him probably was. Between his angry chest wound, the resulting shock, and the fear for his teammate, Lance was a certifiable wreck; wacky vision, shaking, and the blood on his hands didn’t do him any favors either as they made the controls harder to grip.

 

He couldn’t give it much thought right now, though; he just needed to fight his shaking hands long enough to pilot Blue back to the Castle and get Keith into a pod.

 

Get Keith in a pod and he’d be fine. Yeah.

 

“Allura, please respond!”

 

In the corner of his display screen, Lance could see the Red Lion flying next to Blue. It was uncanny, knowing that the Lion was flying by itself while its Paladin was dying inside another one. Like a concerned mother watching her child rolled into the ER on a gurney, worried but unable to do anything. Except Keith would be fine. They just needed to get home.

 

“Hunk? Shiro! Anyone, pl--”

 

“We’re here, Lance.” Allura’s voice filled the cockpit a split tick before a small window of Lance’s screen displayed her face. “What’s happened?”

 

Lance sighed, though didn’t release any of the tension in his body.

 

“Keith’s hurt. Bad.” He drew in a shaky breath, “We have to get him into a pod STAT.”

 

His stomach twisted as he spoke, like voicing the fact solidified it - that it hadn’t been real until he admitted it was. His grip on the Blue Lion’s controls tightened too, as though doing so would somehow make Blue go faster.

 

The Princess’s expression turned grim as she nodded, “Understood.”

 

Just a few ticks later, a brilliant swirl of blue and purple appeared in front of the Lions - a sight Lance had never appreciated more than this moment.

 

As Blue charged toward the teladuv portal, Lance spared a second to look over his shoulder at Keith, still pale and lying motionless on the floor of the Lion’s cockpit.

 

“Come on,” he whispered. “Just hang on a little longer.”

\-----------------------

As soon as the Blue Lion touched down in its hangar the team swarmed around her legs. They were gathering around him and Keith in the cockpit before Lance even knew Blue had lowered her jaw to grant them entry.

 

There was a small series of gasps, first at finding Keith unconscious on the floor, then at seeing Lance’s sorry state.

 

He tried to turn towards the others, but stopped and grimaced as his chest wound protested the movement. He clutched at it, as though the action would alleviate the pain.

 

“Lance, what happened?” Hunk entered Lance’s field of vision and knelt next to him. When the latter met his eyes, he saw only concern.

 

“Later.” Shiro’s tone was firm, but not accusatory or angry. Rather, it was the voice of the Black Paladin, the one who triaged situations and found solutions. “Right now, we need to get them both in healing pods.”

 

“I’ll ready a second pod.” Coran turned on his heel and exited the space before anyone could even turn to see him leave.

 

“Keith first.” As soon as the words escaped, Lance groaned and leaned forward. Now that he didn’t have to focus on flying and contacting anyone, his wound was demanding more of his attention.

 

“Shiro’s got him, Lance. But you need help too.” Hunk got to his feet and moved to stand directly in front of Lance. He grasped Lance’s left forearm and hand, and waited to pull until Lance started to stand.

 

Once up, Lance all but collapsed against his friend as his vision went hazy. His chest screamed at the contact, drawing a pained whine from the Blue Paladin. Any thoughts of protesting Hunk’s claim died as Lance realized that the only thing keeping him upright _was_ Hunk.

 

Lance’s gaze shifted to Shiro, who had now scooped Keith off the floor and was carrying him away, Allura at his heels.

 

“C’mon.” Hunk pulled Lance’s left arm across his shoulders, secured his grip, then proceeded to walk towards the Blue Lion’s exit.

 

With each step they took, Lance only grew more aware of the fact that he was, again, leaning on others to get by - this time literally. It had been hard enough knowing he didn’t have a significant role on the team, but now having caused the severe-injury-maybe-death of one member of Team Voltron, and now severely inconveniencing another . . . it was too much.

 

Lance hung his head with a pained grimace.

 

“Hey, you’re okay. You’ll both be back to normal in no time.”

 

The Blue Paladin lifted his gaze just enough to meet his friend’s, but couldn’t fake or force a smile like he often did when he felt down. Of course, given the gravity of the situation, it wouldn’t be right to make light of this even if he _could_.

 

He shifted his eyes to focus on the group ahead of them as Shiro and Allura pulled ahead of them in the corridor.

 

“Yeah.”

\-----

Sleep and Shiro didn’t get along anyway, but after days like today there wasn’t even any point in trying. Two of his teammates had been seriously injured - nearly _died_ , even - while answering a distress call. Any one of those elements was hard enough to deal with, but all together it was absolutely brutal.

 

A fatigued smile lightened his features as he passed the door to Hunk’s room, with the rumble of deep snoring just barely making its way to the hall. _Someone_ was getting some sleep at least, a fact for which Shiro was glad. Nobody had wanted to leave the pods, but they’d all begrudgingly agreed that it was better to step away and come back a few hours later with some sort of rest. After a particularly draining day like today, that raw emotion would rear its head sooner than usual - which wouldn’t be good for anyone.

 

Of course, Shiro acknowledged all this while being the living embodiment of “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

 

His feet practically carried him to the infirmary on their own as his mind wandered elsewhere. As the door opened and Shiro stepped into the space, he found it looked virtually the same as it had when he left just a short while ago. Two pods were visible and occupied, each with a pile of armor stacked next to it.

 

Shiro looked to the lone helmet of the two piles. He was glad he’d been able to put it out of Lance’s view when they helped him shed his armor to get in the healing pod. He was already struggling enough without seeing the bloody handprints on the red helmet he’d been wearing - even if it seemed the blood was his. It was still a glaring reminder of what had happened down there, and if his state when he landed was any indication, it was _bad_.

 

The Paladin approached Coran, who was standing in front of the console at the center of the room. It seemed he hadn’t left to sleep yet either.

 

“How’re they doing, Coran?”

 

“Lance should be out of his pod in the next quintant. Can’t say for sure when; he may have internal injuries we couldn’t see. Keith, on the other hand . . .” Coran looked to said Paladin in his cryo pod, “may present more of a challenge.”

 

“Do you have any idea what caused this?”

 

Coran sighed, though the weight that came over the elder Altean’s face with the action suggested some level of displeasure with the answer. “Valanium. It’s a substance we used on Altea as a binding agent in the manufacturing of things like construction materials. Unfortunately, in its gaseous form it’s extremely hazardous to anything that breathes air.”

 

“Is it caustic?”

 

“No, it--” Coran turned his focus to the console in front of him and typed in a command. A moment later the screen was filled with Altean text. “It bonds with organic matter; the lungs are especially vulnerable because they’re more sensitive. Twenty doboshes of exposure will create burns on the skin, but it’s nothing compared to the _three_ doboshes that it takes for the valanium to coat the inside of one’s lungs. It builds up and creates a layer that blocks the air from getting where it needs to be. Effectively, it suffocates anyone who is unfortunate enough to breathe it in for too long.”

 

Shiro looked to the screen, as though he could read it, before glancing back to the healing Paladins. “And that’s what was in the atmosphere.”

 

“At an unusually high concentration, too. This is one of the strongest I’ve seen of gaseous valanium. Usually anyone working near it with such a high ratio would be heavily guarded against it and immediately assessed if they were even _suspected_ of exposure.”

 

“Lance and Keith breathed it for several minutes.” Shiro’s tone was grim, having heard similar stories on Earth of people working in hazardous conditions. It rarely ended well.

 

“Lance seems to be recovering on his own; he must not have been exposed for very long. Ticks, maybe. Truthfully, Keith is the one I’m more concerned with.”

 

The Black Paladin nodded as he lowered his gaze to the floor. He wasn’t surprised, to be honest. Lance had at least been conscious and mobile when he returned to the Castle. Keith, on the other hand, had that deathly pallor which Shiro prayed he would never have to see again.

 

“Is there anything we can do?”

 

“There _is_ a counter-agent, but we don’t have any on board. Even if we did, the dose wouldn’t be enough to match this high a concentration. I think I can find a formula to recreate it in the Castle’s database - though I’ll need a sample of the atmosphere from the planet they were on.”

 

Shiro straightened as Coran returned his focus to the console and typed in a new command. That sounded like the beginnings of an instruction, something Shiro could actually _do_ to help - rather than just stand around and wait for the pods to do their work. “How much do you need? I can get a sample.”

 

“I need the formula to determine just that. Valanium is dangerous; I’d rather use every bit that we acquire than have any left over.” The Altean glanced over at Shiro again, and it struck Shiro just how . . . _tired_ the man looked. “It’ll take some time, but you needn’t worry. His condition isn’t going to worsen while everyone rests.”

 

Shiro’s face showed his confusion as he stared at Coran. “But you basically said he can’t breathe. Isn’t that going to affect the healing process?”

 

“Keith is technically in stasis right now, not a healing cycle. His vitals were virtually non-existent when Lance got back to the Castle; I feared we would lose him before anything could be done. His condition won’t further deteriorate this way, but . .”

 

“But we can’t administer the treatment while he’s in stasis, can we?”

 

“No.” Coran sounded as defeated as Shiro felt.

 

Shiro turned his dejected gaze to Keith.

 

The numerous battles they’d been in, the countless close-calls they’d had, and this moment still stung like nothing else. Usually if there was a problem, Shiro could solve it. If there was a threat, he could eliminate it. But right now there wasn’t anything he could do, and that fact left a sour taste in his mouth. He wanted to personally track down whoever - or _what_ ever - was responsible and force them to see the heartbreaking results of their actions. But alas, he was a Paladin of Voltron, keeper of peace - and even if someone _was_ at fault, nothing he could do would change the fact that two of his teammates were fighting for their lives.

 

If _he_ was feeling this way, how were the others doing? Hunk was out, at least for the time being, but Shiro had a sneaking suspicion that Allura was on the bridge, trying to control what she could in this out-of-control situation. And Pidge was probably in the Green Lion hangar trying to make sense of _something_ when nothing else made sense. Then when Hunk awoke, he would probably head straight for the kitchen to make something that would help his team, when right now they felt stuck in a helpless situation.

 

Shiro knew his team. He just wished he knew how to help them right now.

 

“Do what you can for them, Coran.” Shiro started to turn towards the exit, but paused. “And let me know if anything changes.”

 

“Of course,” Coran met Shiro’s gaze and nodded, with a gravity not often seen from the usually whimsical man.

 

The Paladin nodded back before he exited the room.

\----------

“Ah-HAH!”

 

Shiro woke with a start to someone shouting. He hadn’t realized he'd fallen asleep, but apparently he’d been so drained after checking on the others that he’d dozed off once he got back to the infirmary.

 

His head shot up and he quickly looked around the space, expecting a threat or conflict. All he found, however, was a group of people staring at a triumphant Coran, still in front of the console. However, the tired man from earlier was now replaced by his usual, energetic self.

 

“I found the formula!”

 

Shiro stood from his seat on the floor and straightened, his back particularly unhappy with his napping position. “That’s g . .” he paused as a yawn interrupted his thought. “That’s great, Coran.” The others watched him as he lazily joined the group.

 

“Did you find what we need, then?” Pidge voiced the hope of the others.

 

“Yes. And thankfully, we only need to collect two easy-to-find elements for it. One is the valanium, and the other is a medicine that any self-respecting pharmacy in the galaxy should carry.”

 

“Great. I’ll collect the valanium, and Pidge--”

 

“Actually, I think you should stay here, Shiro.”

 

Everyone looked to Allura in surprise.

 

“I agree,” Coran spoke up. He quickly redirected his focus to the console in front of him and pointed to a short series of Altean characters. “Pidge, you know where the containment units are, just down the hall? Can you and Hunk go there and find a collection module with this written on it?”

 

Pidge looked between Allura and Coran, still confused, but then stepped forward to study the screen. After a couple seconds she nodded, “Sure . . . that’ll be a small container, right?”

 

Coran glanced down at her, “Indeed it will.”

 

Pidge and Hunk looked to each other, before the former nodded towards the door behind them. Whatever Coran and Allura were thinking had to be serious - and personal - if they wanted the room cleared first. It was uncannily similar to being reprimanded at the Garrison.

 

Once the Paladins had left and the door closed behind them, the Alteans looked back to Shiro.

 

Allura was the first to speak. “You and Keith share a history, correct?”

 

Shiro’s eyebrows rose in surprise, not sure what he’d expected but it wasn’t _this_ topic. “We both trained at the Galaxy Garrison back on Earth. I’ve known Keith for years.”

 

“Would you agree that he’s closer to you than anyone else on the team?”

 

Shiro averted his eyes, casting them to the floor. When they first met Allura and Coran, Shiro would have said absolutely. Of late, however, he noticed Keith opening up to the whole group more than he would’ve expected. Honestly, probably more than either of them would have. And his time spent alone with Lance didn’t go unnoticed either, nor did the recent change in the timbre of their bickering.

 

Still, the “history” that Allura was getting at had to count for something.

 

He met Allura’s gaze again. “I would guess so, yeah.”

 

“We bring this up,” Coran started, “because Lance is going to need reassurance when he recovers. He’s likely going to blame himself for what happened, and expect everyone else to as well. Any of us could tell him otherwise, but it’ll mean more coming from you.”

 

“You’re his leader, Shiro.” Allura’s expression softened, “But what’s more, you’re close to Keith. He looks up to you for direction already, but he needs to know that _you personally_ don’t hold this against him, as someone who cares about Keith.”

 

_Now_ it clicked why they were insisting on this; it was similar to how one might react if their best friend got hurt, then they had to tell said friend’s parents or older sibling about it. Given what Keith had said during his trials with the Blade of Marmora, the comparison wasn't too far off.

 

Shiro nodded as he looked between the two Alteans. “Alright. Hunk and Pidge can get what we need then.”

 

As if on cue, the doors to the hall opened and the aforementioned Paladins stepped through. A part of Shiro wondered if the timing truly was coincidental, or if they had been listening in. At the moment, it really didn't matter either way.

 

Pidge held up the cylinder in her hands. “Is this the one, Coran?”

 

Coran looked to her and offered an affirmative nod. “Indeed, Number Five!” The Altean turned to face her, “Now listen closely, valanium is very dangerous stuff. Mishandle it and--”

 

A hissing sound drew the attention of the whole group to Lance’s pod. The small chamber decompressed, releasing a small burst of air into the open space before the blue barrier started to disappear.

 

In a burst of surprising speed, Hunk reached the pod before the others - just as Lance opened his eyes.

 

“Lance!” Said Paladin had only barely stepped away from the pod when he was enveloped in a hug from Hunk. “How’re you feeling? Are you okay?”

 

Lance smiled at the barrage of questions and patted his back as he returned the hug. “Yeah Hunk, I’m good. Just need a sec to get my bearings.”

 

That forced smile said anything _but_ “I’m okay,” as did his unusually fatigued voice, but calling him on it probably wasn’t the best option when he literally had only just woken up.

 

Hunk released Lance, though left one arm around his shoulder as Lance scanned the crowd. The faux smile fell away, replaced with concern. “Where’s Keith? Is he--?”

 

“He’s still in stasis, Lance.” Shiro’s tone was gentle, as reassuring as he could be given the situation. He tensed as he realized too late that he had slipped and said ‘stasis’ rather than ‘asleep’ or something similar, and he prayed that no one picked up on the subtle but important difference.

 

Lance visibly relaxed, eyes closing as he sighed. It wasn’t the _best_ answer - Keith being up and about was the best scenario - but it was better than averted gazes and awful silence. It was better than having to explain that Keith had died regardless of Lance’s efforts to save him.

 

Though, the way Lance was now looking at Keith’s stasis pod, one may as well have said just that.

 

“He’ll be okay, though. We know how to help him.”

 

Lance looked to Pidge, light in his eyes for the first time since he and Keith had departed for their mission.

 

Pidge held the container in her hand up to eye level - well, eye level for _her_ , the others still had to look down at it - as she continued. “Coran found a formula for something that’ll counteract what was in the atmosphere of that planet you guys were on.”

 

Lance looked to Coran with an expression that just about broke Shiro’s heart. The hope in his eyes, the pained creases in his brow, his parted lips with the corners pulled down - the way one fought back tears. Desperation. Hoping beyond hope for a miracle.

 

Coran met the young man’s gaze and nodded, “In fact, we were just about to go over how to collect the components we need.” He nodded towards the door, “Hunk, Pidge. I’ll tell you on the way to your Lions.”

 

“Uh, shouldn’t we hold off?” Hunk indicated to his friend with his free arm, “Lance only just woke up.”

 

“The sooner we collect these compounds, the sooner I can make the valanium treatment to help Keith.” Coran sighed, then his heavy eyes traced to the Blue Paladin. “Though, I do suppose we can hold off until we’re sure Lance is up to par.”

 

“No, it’s fine. You can go.”

 

Everyone looked to Lance with equal parts surprise and concern.

 

“But Lance--”

 

“No no, really.” Lance looked to Hunk and patted his shoulder with another weak smile. “Go be the hero. I’ll hang back and hold down the fort.”

 

“The only thing you’ll be holding is a cup of nunvil until we’re sure you’re fully recovered.”

 

“Coraaaaaaaan,” he whined.

 

“Don’t you ‘Coraaaaaan’ me. Valanium is nothing to play around with, especially with the concentration you were exposed to. Your only job for the next few quintants will be recuperating - which includes giving your body the nutrients it needs.”

 

“But does it _have_ to be that old-sock-distilled hot dog water juice? Don’t you have just plain chicken noodle soup or something?”

 

Shiro had to put serious effort into stifling a smile as he watched the conversation. He remembered having similar talks when he was younger, often after he’d hurt himself and wanted to avoid the further pain of addressing said injuries. Or sometimes when he was sick and the cure seemed worse than the disease - a sentiment Lance would probably agree with, given how fervently he argued his position.

 

“You sure you’ll be alright?”

 

Shiro refocused on the present as Hunk stepped away from Lance, still facing him.

 

“I’m sure,” Lance nodded at Hunk. Shiro could see why Hunk was so hesitant to leave; despite his claims and several hours in the healing pod, Lance looked exhausted. He couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was physical and how much was mental.

 

“I’ll make sure he takes it easy,” Shiro nodded to Hunk before shifting his focus to Lance. “ _And_ that he takes what he needs to.”

 

Lance sighed dejectedly.

 

Hunk looked between Lance and Shiro, his internal struggle written all over his face. After a short moment he met Shiro’s gaze and nodded, albeit reluctantly. “If anything happens, you can get a hold of us through our Lions.”

 

“Hopefully it shouldn’t be necessary,” Coran piped up with his usual enthusiasm. “We’ll be back faster than you can say ‘flight of the xznly squiwl’!”

 

This elicited a shudder from Pidge.

 

Shiro and Lance both smiled, and the former offered the group a silent wave as they moved toward the door.

 

A moment later said door closed, leaving only Lance, Shiro, and Allura.

 

“I’ll monitor their progress from the bridge,” Allura spoke up, drawing Shiro’s attention. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” Shiro nodded to the princess, then she turned and exited the infirmary.

 

The Black Paladin looked to Lance, now the only other conscious person in the room.

 

A strange tension descended upon the nearly-deserted area. The team was familiar with the feeling given how many battles they’d been in and how many lives looked to them each day just to survive. But there _was_ a massive difference between charging into a fight and helping a teammate fight personal demons.

 

Somehow, the latter seemed worse; a misstep meant one of their own would hurt in such a way that even the Altean healing pods couldn’t help.

 

Shiro took a step towards Lance. “Wanna see what we can find in the kitchen? I think Hunk was working on something earlier.”

 

Lance sat down on the steps, then folded his knees to his chest. “Maybe later.”

 

Shiro nodded rather than pressing the issue. After the beating his body had taken, Lance definitely needed to eat _something_ to regain some of his strength. However, his mind required just as much attention as his stomach - if not more.

 

After a few seconds of silence, Shiro took a seat next to Lance on the steps. “Want to talk about it?” He kept his voice low, a gentle nudge rather than a harsh prod just in case he wasn’t ready.

 

The young man turned his head slightly away before releasing a heavy sigh. There was a pause before he spoke, like he was trying to figure out what to say. Or maybe how to put what happened into words. “We got that distress call from some ship in mechanical failure, right? Well we get there and they had crashed into a canyon wall. Check it out, and the only thing working on the whole ship was this one button on the bridge. So naturally I push it. And . . it blew up in my face.”

 

Shiro grimaced, “It was a trap?”

 

Another sigh, this time with a nod. “Busted my helmet wide open and knocked me out. Next thing I know, we’re on the canyon floor, surrounded by debris, and Keith isn’t wearing his helmet.” Lance looked up to said Paladin, still unaware of the world outside his own cryo pod.

 

Lance sniffed, and Shiro could see his eyes shimmer with impending tears. “Why’d he do it, Shiro?”

 

The words were like a punch in the gut. The guilt that thickened the younger Paladin’s throat wasn’t a threat that Shiro could face head-on. The tears that were choking him couldn’t be wrestled with. They instead required finesce and patience, lest the problem only be made worse by a wrong step.

 

“Probably because he knows we need you.”

 

“Well we need _him_ more.” Lance’s voice cracked, and the tears threatening to spill over traced down his face. He leaned forward and ran his hands through his hair. “ _I_ was the one who created the problem, _I_ should be the one in there. It’s not fair that Keith’s the one who has to die for my mistake!”

 

Panic now overtook Shiro, as his mind screamed ‘ _red alert! New strategy!’_ He grabbed Lance's shoulders and turned him so they faced each other.

 

“Lance, you have to listen to me.” Shiro locked onto Lance’s eyes, “First of all, this was not a mistake on your part - it was just chance that you caught the brunt of it. This could have happened to any of us. Second, this isn’t him paying a consequence for your action; he made the choice to give you his helmet. A choice than any of us would have made in his position.” Shiro’s face softened, “Coran said he was barely alive when you got back. Had he not acted, we might have lost you. _Both_ of you - Keith wouldn’t have been able to make it out of there with his broken ankle.

 

“We’re going to help Keith, and he’s going to be fine. But you _have_ to know that none of this is your fault. It was a bad situation and you both did what you had to in order to make it out alive. You’re an important member of our team and we’d be lost if you hadn’t made it back.”

 

Lance just stared at him in shock, frozen in place, with tears still snaking down his cheeks.

 

Two solid seconds went by, and dread gripped Shiro’s chest. Quiznak - had he been too hard? Too forward?

 

Six seconds, and Lance blinked. Two more blinks then he lowered his gaze, finally allowing Shiro to release his held breath.

 

Then, without warning, the Blue Paladin teetered toward Shiro. His eyes widened in alarm and he automatically moved to catch the boy as his head came to rest against Shiro’s shoulder.

 

Was this a delayed effect of the valanium?

 

Shiro looked at him, but at this angle he couldn’t see the boy’s face. “Lance? Are you okay?”

 

A quiet sob met Shiro’s ears, the only answer he needed. His urgency bled away as Shiro repositioned his arms to wrap around Lance’s shoulders and back.

 

He didn’t know how long they sat like this exactly, only that his heart sank just a little more with each shudder, each gasp. Guilt had a hell of an effect on a person, and that had to be playing a large role here. However, the longer they sat, the more Shiro felt that Lance had some deep-rooted struggle that was rearing its ugly head right now too.

 

After a long moment, Lance drew in a deep breath and released it in a sigh. He turned his head toward the center of Shiro’s chest and took in another breath.

 

“Thank you, Shiro.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but in the otherwise-quiet infirmary it carried well.

 

The older Paladin closed his eyes with a mild grimace. “You’re welcome,” he muttered, attempting to match Lance’s volume.

 

Another moment later Lance sighed again, this time with a subtle nod. He sat up straight and slowly pulled away from Shiro, then slowly brought a hand up to wipe at his eyes. His palm wiped down his face, erasing the traces of the tears that had already fallen. Once done, his hands came to a rest in his lap.

 

Lance again met Shiro’s gaze, this time with a fatigued but pleading expression. “You’re not really gonna make me drink nunvil, are you?”

 

A gentle smile crossed the Black Paladin’s face. “I said I’d make sure you got what you needed, not that I’d specifically make you choke nunvil down. Right now,” Shiro got to his feet then offered a hand towards the other, “I think ‘what you need’ is whatever Hunk left for you in the kitchen.”

 

The plea in Lance’s eyes fell away, to be replaced by a watery smile as he accepted Shiro’s hand. Once on his feet, Shiro put an arm behind the younger boy’s shoulder and steered him towards the door to the kitchen.

 

\-------

“Now keep in mind, Keith has been in stasis, _not_ a replenishing cycle.” Coran addressed the group of five in front of him, a vile of the homebrew valanium antidote in-hand. “Stasis keeps the body in a suspended state, so he’ll be in the same condition as when he entered the pod. The moment he enters a replenishing cycle, this monitor will display his vital statistics.” His free hand motioned to the console next to him, with its blue screen hovering above the interface.

 

He lowered his arm, directing his full attention to the others again. “You should know, his vitals will likely decline as soon as that happens. It will take a moment for the antidote injection to enter the pod, and for his body to accept the treatment.”

 

The Paladins all nodded solemnly at the elder Altean - except for Lance, whose face showed the desperation they all felt.

 

Shiro took a small step forward, “Administer the treatment.”

 

The mustached man nodded, then moved to stand in front of the monitor. He typed in a series of commands, and the screen blinked out for a split second; when it came back, a series of moving graphs filled the screen. Steady beeps reflected what had to have been the heart monitor, filling the space with a recognizable _beep . . . beep . . . beep._

 

Coran briskly walked to Keith’s pod, and plugged the vile of medicine into a hole that only just appeared on the right side of the unit. The pod pulled the vile in, and the team watched as a green mist filled the air inside the pod.

 

_Beep . . . beep . . . beep._

 

Coran moved back to the monitor at the center of the room. His fingers tapped furiously at the console again, his gaze fixated on the screen in front of him.

 

All eyes were on the digital readout.

 

_Beep . . . . beep . . . ._

 

“Coran?” Hunk looked to the Altean nervously.

 

“One moment . . .”

 

_Beep . . . . . beep . . . . ._

 

The whole team saw what Hunk did: the lines on the moving graphs were still sloping downward with no sign of righting themselves.

 

They were losing him.

 

“He’s not . . .” The fear and hopelessness in Pidge’s voice only echoed what the whole group felt as they watched, knowing there was nothing they could do.

 

_Beep . . . . . ._

 

“No!” Lance’s shout spooked the others as he turned from the monitor and walked the pod, placing his full attention on the Red Paladin inside. “You don’t _get_ to die on us here, safe and sound and removed from the fight. You fight tooth and nail for every moment. For every breath.” He stared through the glass at Keith, as though challenging him to do the same.

 

_Beep . . . ._

 

“Heroes don’t die at home in bed - they die out _there_ , fighting. So come on Keith, wake up!” Lance’s voice pitched with the last couple words, betraying the tears that were returning whether he wanted them to or not. He blinked several times, as though wishing them away.

 

The Blue Paladin gently rested his forehead against the glass of the pod, eyes closed. “Please.”

 

_Beep . . . . beep . . . ._

 

“Lance . . . look.”

 

The young man’s eyes slowly opened, and he turned back towards the others still viewing the monitor. He found Pidge pointing to the monitor. When he focused on it, he found that the graphs were no longer stuck in a downward slope. Rather, they had evened out.

 

_Beep . . . beep . . . beep . . ._

 

And started climbing.

 

Lance looked back to Keith with bright, hopeful eyes. The Red Paladin still wasn’t moving, but Lance could swear it was easier to watch his chest expand and contract with each breath. The blue on his lips seemed to be less significant now too - even through the blue glass of the pod.

 

_Beep . . beep . . beep . ._

 

He wasn’t sure if it was real or just imagined, but Keith’s ashen skin tone seemed to give way to his natural color with each breath he took in.

 

Then he started coughing. It was bone deep, and the kind that hurt one’s throat just by _seeing_ it. The kind where the body lurched as it fought with everything it had to expel whatever had invaded - but it was a sign of _life_.

 

“Coran?” Lance looked to the man with no small amount of concern.

 

“It’s alright, Lance.” The mustached Altean looked from him to Keith, “It’s a natural effect of the treatment. His body is forcefully removing the valanium in the best way it knows how.”

 

‘Best’ was perhaps a relative term; the whole team grimaced as they watched Keith fight the substance, flinching with every hoarse cough.

 

Then his eyes slowly opened, unfocused and just blankly staring ahead.

 

The blue barrier at the front of the pod disappeared, and green mist was released into the air as the pod opened. Already the closest to the pod, Lance was already right there to catch Keith as he teetered forward. Lance stumbled at first, not entirely prepared for Keith’s deadweight, but got his footing before he went down.

 

Keith coughed into Lance’s chest, then groaned as if the action hurt.

 

Lance was frozen in place, terrified that acknowledging what he thought was happening - acknowledging that Keith was _awake_ and _alright_ \- would prove it to be just an illusion. After a moment of holding Keith, of feeling his chest move with each breath, of feeling the hot breath through his shirt, he dared to angle his face down to see the other’s as much as he could.

 

“Keith?”

 

Keith gently pushed away from Lance, just enough to get a few inches of distance. His eyes focused on Lance’s, and the relief that filled them made Lance’s heart do barrel rolls in his chest.

 

“Lance.” Keith breathed the word as he leaned forward again, this time weakly wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist as he buried his face in his shoulder.

 

The tears Lance had somehow managed to fight off came at him like a wave as he returned the embrace, and he didn’t even bother to try and hold back the torrent.

 

Lance felt a hand on his shoulder, then an arm behind his back, and before he had time to look up he and Keith were enveloped in a five-strong group hug. Sniffles and strained, relieved laughter filled the air, muffled by the mass of bodies.

 

The Blue Paladin took a deep, shaky breath. “Keith, I’m sorry. I’m so so--”

 

Keith shook his head against his shoulder, then turned his face away from said shoulder, “Don’t. You h--” He was interrupted by another harsh cough, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

 

Lance tightened his hold on the other, not sure what else to say.

 

A metal hand came up to rest on Lance’s head, then lightly ruffled his hair. He looked to his left and met Shiro’s eyes just long enough to offer a silent nod in thanks.

 

_I’d be lost without you, too._


End file.
